


Forever (I Swear)

by libertycas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Bottom Castiel, Childhood Friends, Coming Out, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Character Death, Recovery, Soulmates, Teenage Castiel/Teenage Dean Winchester, Top Dean, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:56:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libertycas/pseuds/libertycas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas looks up at Dean then, and he's beautiful. His eyes glow in the early morning sun, the warmth of his soul shines through; this is Dean, Cas' best friend - yet, in that moment, Cas realises he's so much more than that. He's the boy Cas grew up with, the boy he loved, perhaps more than he's loved anyone or anything else. The boy who meant – who <i>means</i> – the world to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever (I Swear)

I.

Dean and Castiel are two years old when they meet for the first time. Their mothers attend a social group at the old stone church at the end of the block twice a week and have struck up a friendship; Mary invited Rachel over for coffee this morning. The four of them sit in the sun-drenched warmth of Mary's living room, and the mothers share gossip while cups steam in their hands and their boys play on the plush rug in the centre of the room.

Dean is a chubby, clumsy toddler, seemingly unaware of his size as he tumbles around on the floor, giggling euphorically as he waves his arms in the air and grabs toys in his tiny hands. Short tufts of blond hair stick out on his head, and he gurgles as he plays, his speech a mix of coherent words and half-sentences, peppered with excerpts of a brilliant, mysterious tongue only Dean can truly appreciate.

Castiel is two months older than Dean, and capable of wonderfully eloquent communication on those rare, beautiful occasions when he just so desires; the paediatrician they pay a visit to once a month always tells Rachel her son's vocabulary greatly surpasses his young age. He is a quiet, reserved child, however, and near silent today, nervous in the company of his new playmate. He keeps his distance from Dean, fixing him with a curious, blinking stare, eyes wide and bright, as exquisitely blue as the summer sky outside. He clutches his favourite toy in his small, delicate hands; a soft, chocolate-coloured teddy bear, clinging to comfort in the midst of this unfamiliar situation.

Dean stumbles on heavy feet as he toddles towards Castiel, and loses his balance – he reaches out for the edge of the coffee table, but misses it by a fraction. Castiel shrieks when Dean lands square on top of him, and Rachel throws her mug down, collecting her son in her arms. Thick tears roll down Castiel's face, and he sobs loudly – far more from shock than pain – his eyes turn dark and his cheeks flush pink. Dean stares up at him, dumbstruck by the abrupt turn of events; and he's quickly scolded when he bursts into loud, near-hysterical giggles, satisfied with his work.

 

II.

They're five when Dean approaches Castiel in the playground on their first day of elementary school. It's lunchtime, and they're both still without playmates – it seems most of the other children in their class already made friends during morning recess, but Dean's boisterous nature and Castiel's timidity means they've both been left behind.

The boys don't remember one another. Their mothers lost contact once the social group disbanded, and the beautiful old church was demolished two years ago. A bigger building on the edge of town has since replaced it; an ugly, sterile wooden construction. While Dean may have no recollection of Castiel, he's nevertheless intrigued by the quiet, shy boy with dark, messy hair and solemn eyes, and approaches him in a beeline, navigating the concrete. Castiel sits on the edge of the playing field behind the school building, cross-legged underneath the grand, sweeping branches of an ancient oak tree, nose buried in a worn copy of _Alice In Wonderland._ Dean strides confidently towards him, sitting down in front of Castiel before he's even offered an invitation. He extends one arm, and Castiel glances up at him nervously.

'I'm Dean,' he announces, freckled nose crinkling at the bridge as he grins. After a few long moments, Castiel places his book down on the grass and shakes Dean's outstretched hand.

'Castiel,' he says quietly.

'That's a weird name,' Dean replies almost instantly. His nose crinkles into a puzzled frown this time. 'I'm gonna call you Cas.'

'Okay,' Cas replies softly, not one to argue.

'What're you reading?' Dean asks, nodding towards Cas' book.

Cas gives him a small smile; if Dean is genuinely interested – and he certainly seems to be – it would appear they've found some common ground.

' _Alice In Wonderland._ Would you like me to read you some?' Cas replies, after a short pause and some careful consideration. He hasn't befriended any of his classmates yet, and although he's content by himself, he can't bear the thought of spending _every_ recess alone.

'Sure,' Dean replies, returning the smile.

 

III.

Throughout elementary school, Dean and Cas are inseparable. Their friendship has remained steady and true ever since that encounter on the playground; now a distant, but fond memory. They live just a block away from one another, and Dean waits patiently for Cas outside his house in the mornings so they can share the five-minute walk to school. They spend every recess and lunchtime together – sometimes they play, inventing elaborate fantasy worlds, leaping across the playground on their quests. They picture themselves as brave knights, fearlessly slaying monstrous, fire-breathing dragons; as astronauts, seeking out distant planets, battling all manner of fearsome alien creatures; as cowboys, exploring the scorching desert on horseback. There are other days when Cas will be buried in a book, and he'll read aloud to Dean as they sit side by side; and sometimes, they're content to simply lie out on the grass, studying the shapes of clouds together.

They play soccer after school three days a week, and swim together at the local pool the other two. They keep one another company on the walk home, and Cas will stay at Dean's house on the days his parents work late. They spend Saturdays and Sundays together, too, whenever they can – they sleep over at one another's houses, staying up until midnight to watch scary movies or play video games together. They'll climb into the same bed and share ghost stories by flashlight underneath the blankets, talking and laughing until they hear their parents' footsteps – and then it's a desperate scramble out of the covers before they're caught. They're talented actors, soon learning to master the art of feigning sleep, and they always break out into fits of giggles as soon as their parents leave the room.

Essentially, it doesn't really matter what they do, so long as they're together.

 

IV.

They're ten years old, and there's one dark, violent night in February when Cas awakes from a nightmare in a cold sweat. The wind howls outside, thunder echoes in the distance and lightning illuminates the windowpane. It's the first time Cas has had a nightmare at Dean's house; frightened and uncertain, without his parents to turn to, he climbs into bed with Dean, nudging him awake.

'Dean, I had a bad dream,' Cas whispers, 'I dreamt a monster was chasing me.'

'No such thing as monsters,' Dean replies, 'And even if there was, I'd get 'em for you, Cas.'

Dean swings his fists in the air, mimicking a fight, and turns to grin at Cas. Wrapped up the warmth of Dean's bed, listening to the steady beat of his heart, Cas feels better in no time. He slides close to Dean and turns, lying with his back pressed to Dean's side.

'Dean?' Cas mumbles into the pillow, 'We're best friends, right?'

'Of course we are.'

'You'll always be my best friend?'

'Forever, Cas. I swear.'

They make a pinky promise under the blankets, and Cas drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face.

 

V.

Dean and Cas are accomplished swimmers by the time they reach junior high, signing up for the swim team in their first year, and they're thirteen when they take part in interstate championships. They sit together for the five hour coach journey, and Dean can barely keep his eyes open; he falls asleep, leaning on Cas. Cas thumbs through an old copy of _Harry Potter,_ content to listen to Dean's long, quiet exhales and feel the warm, heavy weight of Dean's head against his shoulder. Cas is overjoyed, and met with deafening applause when he wins silver, and Dean cheers for him loudest of all. They hug afterwards – 'I'm so proud of you, Cas,' Dean says, and it's wonderfully and effortlessly genuine; not an ounce of envy to be seen. Cas beams back at him, a wide, confident smile stretching from ear to ear.

 

VI.

With freshman year of high school comes a world of fresh opportunities, people and experiences; and within the year, Dean and Cas have drifted apart. For the first time, they're no longer in all of the same classes – they still have Chemistry and English together, but it's not the same. Gone are the days of passing notes and pulling faces at one another behind their teachers' backs; Dean struggles through class, that electric, mischievous light that once surged through his eyes growing noticeably duller with each passing day. Cas studies hard for good grades; his parents hope he'll end up at an Ivy League college one day, so he spends most lunchtimes in the library. Even reading begins to lose its former charm – he buries his head in textbooks now, rather than those fantastical stories he remembers so fondly from his childhood. All of those incredible worlds and characters soon fade to dust, packed away to yellowing boxes at the back of his mind.

They make other friends, sure, but it's not really the same. Cas enjoys the time he spends with Meg and Gabriel, but the friendship he shares with them resembles mere ripples in the ocean, unlike the fierce wave that was his bond with Dean, powerful and relentless. Dean, meanwhile, drifts towards Benny, a kid from his Biology class who wears a leather jacket, speaks with a Southern drawl and fixes Cas with menacing stare every morning when they pass in the hallway. Cas sighs when he catches Dean and Benny skipping class to share cheap cigarettes under the bleachers.

Dean and Cas no longer spend time together after school, and on the rare occasions that they cross paths, the conversation is stilted and awkward. Cas realises their friendship has truly perished when Dean stops showing up outside his front door in the mornings.

 

VII.

They're both fourteen when they have their first kiss. Dean's is at a house party, during a game of spin-the-bottle in someone's basement, with a girl named Anna. She has fiery hair and milky skin; the rich scent of vanilla is strong on her neck and her lips taste of cherries, and Dean is captivated by her. He's calling her his girlfriend within a month.

Cas' is with April, a pretty brunette who sits next to him in Geography; they see a movie together and he walks her home afterwards, kissing her goodnight underneath the incandescent glow of the porch light. It should be beautiful – but hard as he tries, Cas doesn't feel anything. They spend the following Saturday together, but he feels uneasy for every second of it; he can't help feeling there's something wrong. Everything feels empty, hollow – like they're simply going through the motions, and he soon realises there's no connection between them. They don't see much more of one another after that.

 

VIII.

Dean just about scrapes through freshman year, and by summer, he's spending almost every day and night with Anna or Benny - drinking, getting high, stumbling home at dawn. The stench of cigarette smoke clings to him now; Cas smells it, strong and bitter, whenever they pass in the hallway, and it's just another sickening reminder of everything Dean's become. He's late to school most mornings, ends up in detention at least once a week, and attends half of his classes at best. Unsurprisingly, he loses interest in swimming, quitting the team two weeks into the first semester of sophomore year.

Cas is the last one out of the shower and into the changing rooms on Dean's final day of practice, and for the first time in months, they're alone together. They don't talk, but their eyes meet from across the room, and Dean gives Cas a weary smile. They've changed in front of one another hundreds of times before, but Cas gets butterflies this time, as he watches the way the sleek muscles in Dean's arms move when he slips into his shirt, the scattering of freckles across his broad shoulders – lying in bed late that night, hot and uncomfortable, he realises what that feeling is; it's exactly what he wished he'd felt the night he kissed April.

 

IX.

After months of confusion and too many sleepless nights to count, Cas finally learns to accept himself, and comes out halfway through sophomore year. He refuses to make a spectacle of it – he quietly tells a handful of friends, and decides that everyone else can figure it out for themselves.

Dean, on the other hand, is ashamed of his sexuality and vows he won't tell a soul. Cas knows Dean well enough to realise he likes guys and girls - he starts to think a part of him has always known - and he doesn't need to hear Dean say it. Rumours that Dean hooks up with guys at parties when he's drunk begin to drift through the halls late in their sophomore year, and Cas knows that he and Benny share more than just cigarettes under the shade of the bleachers – they're not as well hidden as they think. Cas wonders when Anna will realise what her boyfriend gets up to behind her back.

 

X.

Tears run down Anna's face and her cheeks glow as red as her brilliant hair when she breaks up with Dean that summer. They're standing in the backyard of someone's house at two in the morning – Dean's had too many drinks to care and is beyond comprehension, staring dumbly through glazed eyes as Anna shrieks and stamps her feet. She's just found out about Benny, and all those other guys Dean can't even remember the names of. He knew she'd figure out eventually.

They were both virgins when they met. Their first time is still crystal in his mind, as if it only happened yesterday – he remembers the warmth of Anna's body, her slender limbs, the way her moles stood out against beautiful white skin. He remembers the softness of her lips against his, her fingernails running down his back, how she giggled when he unbuttoned her jeans and moaned in his ear when she came. Dean sways on his feet, wondering if he was ever truly in love with her.

Anna concludes her performance by throwing her drink in his face, before turning on her heel and marching out through the gate at the side of the house. The crowd cheers for her, and Dean leaves; he stumbles home through the hazy night before passing out on his bed, fully clothed. When he awakes the following afternoon, he's hot and sticky, with a searing headache and bitter taste in his mouth - all painful reminders of the night before.

 

XI.

Cas' relationship blossoms as Dean's crumbles. He dates a guy from the swim team that summer, Michael – he's eighteen, tall, with soft brown eyes and jet black hair. His smile is warm, his laugh contagious, and he makes Cas feel valued in a way he hasn't felt in a long time. They spend a long weekend together in July when Michael's parents are out of town, and his hands are gentle on Cas' body when they have sex for the first time; Cas in Michael's lap on the couch, head thrown back as he gasps and grunts. He thinks of Dean when he comes.

 

XII.

Sitting alone on the front porch at three in the morning, a bottle of stolen liquor in his hand, Dean starts to think that Anna was the last thing holding him together. The nights have become longer, the days darker – he smokes more than just tobacco now, and Benny hands him pills in bathrooms at parties. Dean takes what he's given; he's indifferent, apathetic, and the kind of tired that sleep won't fix. There's a crack in his soul, and he fills it with drink and drugs until he's numb to the core.

 

XIII.

Michael leaves for college in September, and Cas ends whatever they had then and there. He avoids romanticising the truth; they'll be a thousand miles apart and Cas tells himself that hard as they try, long-distance isn't going to work. They part amiably; Michael kisses Cas and thanks him for the memories they made that summer. Cas is cold to his touch, weighed down by guilt; he doesn't have the heart to tell Michael the truth – that almost every night they spent together, he thought of Dean.

 

XIV.

There's a wild look in Meg's eyes one dull Monday morning in November when Cas slides into the desk next to hers in homeroom, and she grabs his arm as soon as he sits down.

'Did you hear about Dean Winchester?' she whispers excitedly into his ear, 'Ended up in hospital. He OD'd at some party on Saturday – I heard the paramedics found him passed out with a needle in his arm. Crazy shit, right?'

Cas nods and smiles in reply, but Meg's words hit him like lead, and he spends the rest of the day sick and dizzy, with a dead weight in his stomach. The moment school finishes, he catches a bus to the hospital.

Cas is uncomfortable the second he steps through the doors. The hospital's corridors are a maze, glaringly white, and the smell is unnaturally sterile, sticking in the back of his throat. It's nearly half an hour before he finds Dean's room.

Dean has tubes in his nose, a drip in his arm, and he's surrounded by machines - their low, steady hum is the only sound in the room. He's awake, propped up on pillows, but he does nothing more than stare blankly at the opposite wall of the room. Cas walks in and sits down next to the bed, and Dean barely registers his presence; Cas has to shake his arm gently before Dean so much as turns to face him.

'I fucked up, Cas,' Dean whispers, voice weak. 'I _really_ fucked up.'

'It's going to be okay, Dean,' Cas replies, 'The doctors can help. Come on, this is _you_ we're talking about – you'll get through this, I just know it.'

'You shouldn't be here,' Dean says. His voice breaks this time, and his eyes are dark and wet.

'What do you mean? I was worried about you; I had to make sure you were all right.'

'There's a million other things you could be doing right now. You could be studying; or you could be out doing something with someone who's actually worth your time. You deserve better than me, Cas. Just go.'

'Dean, I -'

_'Just go.'_ With Dean's usual strength it would be a shout, but it comes out as nothing more than a croak, and tears run down his face now. _'Please,'_ he adds, turning away from Cas.

Cas stares hopelessly at the floor tiles for what feels like an eternity; then gives Dean's hand a gentle squeeze and gets up to leave, turning back as he reaches the door. 'You deserve more than this too, you know,' he adds quietly.

 

XV.

It'll be months before he admits it, but Cas' words resonate with Dean, and just to know that Cas still _cares_ is enough to help him pull through. In the two weeks he spends in hospital, Dean realises that he has to change.

His parents and his brother are stern, pushing him towards recovery, but he's grateful for their support. Dean starts running with Sam in the mornings, and he signs up for the lacrosse team on his first day back at school in January. He attends his classes, makes an effort to study, learns that asking for help is nothing to be ashamed of; and gradually, his grades start to improve. For his seventeenth birthday, his father surprises him with a car – a '67 Impala – and he starts working at a diner in town on the weekends.

When Benny appears at Dean's locker in March and mentions a party he's having over the weekend, Dean tells him to go fuck himself.

 

XVI.

Relief washes over Cas on Dean's first day back at school. He's paler than usual, and maybe ten pounds lighter, but nevertheless, he begins to look happier and healthier than he has in a long time, and Cas is relieved to find he no longer smells of cigarette smoke when they pass in the hallway.

 

XVII. 

As Dean rebuilds his world, Cas' shatters.

It's a wet, windy day in April, unusually cold for the time of year, and the sky is charcoal, sun obscured by a blanket of dark clouds. Cas leaves third-period History when his name is called out over the tannoy system, and his father meets him in the parking lot. There's been an accident - his mother was driving to work in the rain. Visibility was poor, she misjudged an intersection, and her car was hit by a truck travelling in the opposite direction. She's alive – just - but the doctors don't know if she'll make it. At her bedside, Cas sobs into his father's shoulder.

 

XVIII. 

With his mother in hospital, Cas pours himself into his work with the conviction that remaining busy is the only way to avoid self-destruction. Every waking hour is spent studying, he barely survives on caffeine, and although his finals are a breeze that year, he's haunted - by fear, uncertainty, loneliness. By June, Cas is a ghost of his former self, frail and exhausted.

Rachel passes that month. The doctors keep her on life support for almost eight weeks, remaining hopeful she'll make a recovery – but her body is weak, and her heart eventually fails. She dies on a Sunday; it's warm outside, and the sun shines down on Cas he watches the nurse check her watch, announcing his mother's time of death.

The funeral takes place a week later, and it marks the day Cas loses his faith; he stares up at the beautiful stained-glass window above the church altar until the patterns fade into meaningless shapes. Everything loses its meaning. He cannot comprehend how a truly benevolent God could allow this to happen.

Dean and Mary attend the funeral, but leave before Cas has the chance to speak with them.

 

XIX. 

Week after week of sleepless nights follow, and Cas spends the days in bed, too; nothing excites or motivates him any more. He'll read, but lose interest after a chapter or two, he'll turn the television off halfway through a movie, and invent excuses when friends call - pretty soon, most stop calling altogether.

The only thing he takes pleasure in now is solitary walks, often at some Godforsaken hour of the night when he's eventually given up trying to sleep. The town is eerily quiet; no lights are on in any of the houses he passes, and there are few cars, no people – in these strange hours, Cas is well and truly alone.

One night, whether by mistake or design, he ends up on Dean's street, and for the first time in weeks, finds himself smiling again – there are so many wonderful memories he associates with this place. When they were six years old, Dean taught him to ride a bike here – Cas remembers the joy he felt, pedalling furiously down the street with the wind in his hair while Dean rode by his side, cheering for him. He remembers shooting hoops in the driveway, games of catch on the lawn, kicking a soccer ball around in the street.

He stops when he reaches 107. The layout of the house is still clear in his mind, and he remembers which one is Dean's room - the window above the garage is his, and it'd be so easy to just climb up onto the roof...

Cas swings one leg up and scales the garden fence, before clambering up onto the garage roof, carefully navigating his way through the darkness. He taps lightly on the glass when he reaches Dean's window, and a few seconds of silence follow, long enough for Cas to realise the absurdity of what he's doing. He's planning his descent when Dean finally opens up.

'Cas?' he mumbles sleepily, 'It's four thirty - what the hell are you doing?'

'Can I come in? Please?' Cas asks. He's numb all over, close to tears, and only half aware of what he's doing. Dean studies him nervously for a few moments, sighs deeply, and takes Cas' hand in his to help him inside.

'I'm sorry,' Cas murmurs, 'I just – I don't know what to do. I went for a walk, and I ended up here. I needed to see someone, and you just came to mind. I don't know what it was – instinct, maybe – but _something_ told me to come to you.'

'Sit down, Cas, you look like Hell.'

They sit together on Dean's bed – for two, maybe three minutes, Cas' quiet sobs are the only sound in the room.

'Listen, Cas – I'm so sorry about your mom,' Dean says eventually.

'Nothing makes sense any more,' Cas murmurs, his voice thick. 'I feel like I can't do anything right; I feel so worthless, so pathetic. I don't know what I'm supposed to do.'

'Yeah, I know what that's like. I was like that last year when I was in hospital, then you came along, and -'

Dean pauses. 'Come on, let's get outta here. We'll go for a drive or something.'

 

XX. 

It's wet outside by the time they reach the car. Cas watches raindrops run down the windows, studies how they distort and refract the glow of passing streetlights. Dean drives aimlessly, picking directions at random – they navigate countless streets before making their way out into the countryside.

The rain subsides and the sun begins to rise as they head out through the fields, the sky painted in fire and ice – reds, oranges and blues burn bright through the clouds. Dean pulls over in the shade of an old tree by the side of the road, and turns to Cas as he switches the engine off.

'What happened to us?' he sighs.

'We grew up,' Cas replies bitterly. He refuses to look at Dean, focusing on his hands instead, picking at a hangnail until it bleeds. 'We changed. A lot of things changed.'

'I wish it hadn't. You know what, Cas - maybe we didn't change as much as you think. I mean, I never asked you to visit me in hospital. After everything, you were still there. You still cared. You never gave up on me, and what you said, it really stuck with me, kept me going. _Trust me,_  if you let it, this is gonna destroy you. I know you're hurting right now, I know you feel worthless, but you're not.'

Dean pauses, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. 'I tried to figure out what went wrong, why I felt so empty,' he begins, 'I realise now - it's 'cause you weren't there. You're everything to me, Cas, always have been. The booze, the drugs, the stuff I did, it was so stupid. Losing you was the biggest mistake I ever made.'

A lump rises in Cas' throat, and he swallows thickly. His head remains down, and he blinks back tears. 'I didn't want to lose you either,' he whispers, 'You always meant so much to me.'

'You're amazing, Cas,' Dean murmurs, 'You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be _loved -_ and you are. Don't ever forget that.'

Cas looks up at Dean then, and he's beautiful. His eyes glow in the early morning sun, the warmth of his soul shines through;  _t_ _his_ is Dean, Cas' best friend - yet, in that moment, Cas realises he's so much more than that. He's the boy Cas grew up with, the boy he _loved_ , perhaps more than he's loved anyone or anything else. The boy who meant – who _means_ – the world to him.

Cas reaches over, cradles Dean's face in his hands, and kisses him deeply. From the second their lips touch, it feels  _right -_  for the first time in Cas' life _._ Perhaps it was always meant to be this way. Dean returns the gesture in a heartbeat, enveloping Cas in his arms, pulling their bodies close.

As Cas pulls away, he breathes into Dean's mouth -  _'Love me, then.'_

 

XXI. 

They make love on the backseat of Dean's car. Dean's body is warm and heavy above Cas, his breath hot against Cas' neck, hands clamorous, touching all over. They grasp at one another clumsily and desperately, Cas clutching Dean's hair in his fist as they kiss, open-mouthed and wet, lips and tongues crashing like waves against a rock. It hurts a little, it's graceless, Cas' leg starts to cramp halfway through; but it's still perfect. Everything he wanted to feel with Michael, with April - he feels it now, coursing through his veins; hot, ferocious, unyielding.

Dean's hips stutter as he comes, moaning Cas' name – a few swift glides of Dean's hand and Cas is coming too, burning hot behind his eyelids. He climbs into Dean's lap afterwards, kisses his mouth, his face, his neck. They wrap their arms around one another, press foreheads and lace fingers together – they touch to make up for lost time, touch to say more than words ever could.

Dean glances nervously at Cas when they're dressed and ready to leave. 'Where do we go from here?' he asks.

Cas pauses. 'Anywhere we like,' he replies, smiling.

 

XXII. 

That August, at the age of seventeen, Dean and Cas are inseparable once more, and for the first time in years, their lives start to feel complete again. They see movies at the drive-in, take late night walks, lie out in Dean's backyard in the early hours of the morning, watching the stars together. They spend most nights at one another's houses, make love, fall asleep in one another's arms. Cas sits at a corner booth in the diner on the evenings Dean works - he reads, studies, paws through college prospectuses. He tells Dean he wants to push himself, wants to get into Harvard, shape himself into someone Rachel would be proud of. Dean smiles, kisses him – 'She _would_ be proud, Cas. I know she would.'

 

XXIII.

Cas comes to realise that Dean was wrong - he alone cannot fill the crack in Dean's soul. Dean acknowledges there was another, much deeper reason for his unhappiness, and with Cas' help, he learns to conquer his fear. It's a slow process, but he finally begins to accept who he is, and late in August, with Cas by his side, he comes out to his family. Mary and Sam are supportive - John leaves the table without a word.

The path ahead is uneven, and things won't be easy; but Dean doesn't care what his father thinks. He's happy, Cas is happy, and that's all that really matters.

 

XXIV.

On a dusky September evening, they light a paper lantern in Cas' backyard to mark the three months that have passed since Rachel's death. Out of respect, more than anything else, Cas prays – to the God he no longer believes in, but to whom his mother remained true her entire life. He vows to work hard, make the most of every day, never give up. He knows now – and owes so much of it to Dean – that things will never improve unless he takes action. Lying in bed all day, buried in self-pity, is _not_ what his mother would want for him.

'What would your mom think about us?' Dean asks later that night.

'It would definitely take some getting used to,' Cas chuckles, 'But I think ultimately, more than anything, she'd be happy I was in love.'

 

XXV.

'So, you always had a crush on me?' Dean asks as they lie in bed one night, nuzzling closer to Cas' neck.

'Not  _always,'_ Cas replies. He wraps one arm tight around Dean, and kisses the crown of his head. 'The first time I looked at you, and saw you as anything other than my friend - it was about a year ago, I suppose. Maybe a little longer than that.'

He pauses, glancing down at Dean, and narrows his eyes. 'Why - how long did _you_ have a crush on me?'

Dean turns red, a bashful grin spreading across his face, and he buries his face into the pillow. He's stubborn, refusing to look at Cas; when Cas leans over to climb on top of him, Dean tries to swat him away with one hand - they end up wrestling playfully, until Cas is above Dean, pinning his wrists to the mattress, and they're both breathless with laughter. 

'A while,' Dean mumbles, smiling. Cas laughs again, and kisses him.

 

XXVI. 

Heads turn when they walk down the hallway with hands entwined on the first day of their senior year. It's a fresh start for the two of them. They develop new friendships, healthier than before – Dean on the lacrosse team, Cas on the school paper after he lands a writing job there. Cas works harder than ever before, pushing himself to get A's, and Dean keeps him company in the library at lunchtimes as he pores over textbooks. Cas crosses his fingers when he sends off college applications in March.

 

XXVII. 

Dean showers Cas with kisses when he reads the acceptance letter from Harvard. 'I knew you could do it, babe,' he whispers, holding Cas close. They sit in Dean's dining room that afternoon, sun soaking through the blinds, and discuss the future. 'Massachusetts is a long way from here, Dean,' Cas says, picking at the hem of his shirt, and all at once, it means ' _I love you'_ and _'I don't want to leave you'_ and ' _I lost you once – don't make me lose you again.'_

'We'll make it work,' Dean replies.

It all used to be so uncertain, and that terrified Cas – but now, everything gradually slots into place. They figure there's enough money between them to rent a small apartment together - when Cas tells Dean he doesn't need to move away just for him, Dean cuts him off, smiling. He tells Cas not to worry, insisting it'll be an adventure; new surroundings, a chance to reinvent himself, figure out what he wants to do with his life.

'Wouldn't do me any harm. It's not like I want to stay in Kansas my whole life, anyway,' he says.

Dean's not sure what he wants to do, but says he could find a job in Cambridge easy enough. 'I'm good with cars. I don't know, maybe I'll become a mechanic,' he says, 'Cas, I want this to work. I'm gonna do everything I can to _make_ it work.'

 

XXVIII. 

They're eighteen when they fill a removal truck together – Dean rolls his eyes when Cas insists he can't bear to leave a _single_ book behind, and they argue playfully when Dean packs a guitar he's never played. 'You don't even _know_ how to play that thing, do you?' Cas asks.

'I'll learn,' Dean replies, grinning.

As they lie in bed that night, their final night in Kansas, nerves and excitement render Dean and Cas incapable of sleep. Cas rests his head on Dean's chest, soothed by the gentle rise and fall with each passing breath, and the warm, steady thud of his heart. Dean plays absent-mindedly with Cas' hair, stroking the top of his head, curling the longer strands between his fingertips.

It's incredible that they're here, really, after all these years and everything that's happened between them. Dean once said that there are couples twice their age who don't have half as many memories to share and stories to tell as he and Cas do, and Cas thinks about that often. He still sees their love as an ocean, vast and strong, but it's no longer that fierce, surging wave it once was – no, it's calmer now. It's soothing and refreshing, like swimming through cool water on a hot day. Cas prefers it this way.

'You really think we'll be together forever, Dean?' Cas asks, smiling. He lifts his head up from Dean's chest, props himself up on one elbow, and their eyes meet. He studies Dean's confident green stare, full of life and conviction, burning brighter than the hottest flame.

'Forever, babe. I swear.'


End file.
